


Gin, Ice & Everything Nice

by Fortisfiliae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Fluff, Oneshot, Post-Canon, Post-Hogwarts, Smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 01:16:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13559583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fortisfiliae/pseuds/Fortisfiliae
Summary: This oneshot takes place some years after Hogwarts, in the early 2000s, where Draco and the reader meet again by coincidence, to find out they’re not as different as the thought.





	Gin, Ice & Everything Nice

The past week has been nothing but absolute shit.   
It should have gone so well, everything was meant to be perfect in your new, independent adult life. You rented a cosy flat in London, managed to get a job in the Ministry’s headquarter and even met a chap called Aaron, who was interested enough to ask for your number. It all seemed excellent, except that it wasn’t.

The flat was described as cosy, which would have been appropriate, if cosy stood for tiny, shabby and somewhat gross.   
Your job at the ministry, in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, sounded splendid when you read its description on the registration sheet, but turned out to be a disastrous struggle with heaps of paperwork, under the control of a woman, that could have been easily related to Satan himself.

None of your friends lived near you anymore, so you couldn’t vent your anger and complain about your current situation properly. The occasional owl you received from some of them, made you happy for a second, although most of their letters consisted of their collective stories, telling you how much fun they were having, going out together and enjoying themselves, without you.

At least there was Aaron, who asked you to meet him at a bar on Friday evening. Right?  
You were on your way to said bar, called ‘Chequers’, already walking down the busy street and looking for its neon sign, when your phone rang. Two short beeps chimed out of your handbag, letting you know you received a text.   
You stopped to take your phone out and read Aaron’s message:

“Hey, sorry I can’t make it tonight.”

He really had the guts to cancel your date five minutes before it started. Your brows furrowed, when you answered:

“Wow, thanks. Could have told me a little bit earlier, I’m almost there.”

You stood on the pavement, clicking the back of your heel to the ground and stared bitterly on the screen of your Nokia, before it buzzed again: 

“Told you I’m sorry. I think we shouldn’t keep this going. Sorry again.”

Did he just dump you via text? A great ending to a perfect week. You sighed and let your phone fall back into your bag, not bothering to even answer that git anymore. Shaking your head, as you still couldn’t believe the audacity he had, to dismiss you such cowardly way, you turned around to see that you stood right in front of Chequers.   
Shrugging, you debated with yourself, if you should walk in alone. You really could use a drink, that’s for sure, but going to a bar on your own, seemed a little pathetic.   
‘Screw it’, you thought. The day couldn’t get any worse and you didn’t know anyone here anyway.

The air was thick and coated with cigarette smoke, when you entered and the music playing was drowned by people’s voices. It was rather full inside, only few tables were unoccupied, whereas the space around the bar was completely packed.  
You sat down at a small table in the furthest corner, that gave you a good view over the place and studied the drinks menu for a minute, before a lovely waitress came to take your order. She didn’t question if you waited for someone, which you were silently thankful for and asked for a glass of Gin and Tonic. One drink and you’d go home.

When she left to prepare it, you let your gaze wander from the people beside you, over to the bar, where a group of guys visibly blathered about some women next to them, making desperate attempts to flirt.   
Another guy sat there alone, his head lowered, and stared into his empty glass. The shadow that wrapped around him, created by his sitting position, covered most of his face.   
‘Fellow sufferer’, you thought, yet your eyes stuck to him, as his silhouette looked deeply familiar, but you didn’t know where to put him. Strands of his white-blond hair hung into his face and you could have sworn that you have seen this sharp facial features before, before he lifted his head and his eyes found yours. Piercing grey orbs looked over to you, while his brows copied your own and rose in surprise.

Draco Malfoy. Alone, in a bar. In a muggle bar to be precise. What in Godric’s name was he doing here? The smirk his lips formed sent you straight back into school days, where he managed to get everything he wanted, with exactly that grin.  
You had been friends back then. Well, in your first few years at least, until Pansy Parkinson decided to spend each second of her time running after him and keeping every female as far away as she could. The rumors that spread about him joining the Death Eaters, were what finally made you depart completely.

You watched him, as he turned over and waved towards the waitress, who quickly walked up to him. He talked to her and looked back to you for a second, before she turned around to take a glance as well, then nodded to him. When she returned, she handed him two glasses, filled with clear liquid, ice and a slice of lemon, which he took before he stood up from his stool and started to head your way.   
He looked stunning, as he walked across the floor, taking confident steps, yet elegant, almost as if he floated. He had definitely matured in the few years you hadn’t seen him and it benefited his looks even more. His shoulders have gotten a bit broader, posture looked more healthy and his three-day stubble suited him exceptionally well.

“Hello (Y/N). Didn’t expect to see you here”, he said, as he stood next to the free chair of your table, his voice a tone deeper than you remembered it to be.

“I could say the same about you, Draco”, you replied and shot him a knowing grin.

He chuckled before he went on: “Do you mind if I sit with you, or are you waiting for someone?”

“Take a seat please, I’m… not waiting”, you said, your last words turning into a whisper.

He placed the glasses at the center of the table, pulled out the chair and sat down. “I asked the waitress to make me the same thing you’ve ordered, so I hope it tastes good. Gin Tonic, isn’t it?”

“It is. You never had one before?”

“No, I recently discovered my passion for scotch, so that’s what I’ve been sticking with”, he said and placed one of the drinks in front of you, holding up his own and tilted it your way. “Cheers to the good old days, then?”

“Drop the ‘good’ and I’m in”, you answered in an attempt to be witty, but both of you frowned slightly, remembering the war that happened in your last school year. “Cheers”, you mumbled, clinked your glass with his, took a big sip and went on talking, trying to brighten the mood again: “So, what brings Draco Malfoy to a muggle bar in London?”

He grinned and ran his fingertip along the rim of his glass, as he answered: “That’s a long story actually. Let’s just say, I may have changed some of my ways, since school. How about you? What are you doing here?”

“I moved here a week ago, for my job at the Ministry.”

“Oh, I see. Sounds great! And why did you come to a bar alone?”

“Why are you here alone?”

“I asked first.” His daring grin appeared once again.

“Well, I may or may not have been asked to meet someone here.”

“And?”

“And he dumped me ten minutes ago. Via text. Text is a-”

“I know what a text is, (Y/N)”, he laughed and pulled out his phone from his jacket. “They’re really more convenient than owls.”

You couldn’t hide the surprised look on your face. He really had changed since school.  
“I can’t believe that’s actually you”, you giggled. “Now that I told you my embarrassing story, let me hear your reason for being here on your own.”

He took a sip, looked at his glass while tasting the drink and nodded approvingly, telling you he liked it, non-verbally. “I’m living down the street and don’t want to spend my weekends at home, so I discovered London’s nightlife for a while.”   
Of course he lived in the city center. The Malfoys were still wealthy after all.

“You’re discovering the nightlife alone?”, you asked.

“Well, yes. I thought the only way to meet new people is going out for a bit. And as we see, my plan worked out”, he said and tilted his head your way, before drinking again.

“I’m not new though”, you snickered.

“True, but you’re one of the few people from school, I actually enjoy meeting.”

“Why is that?”

“Most of them didn’t really grow up, you know? Still hold grudges against entire families and so on.”

“So you’re not with Pansy anymore?”, you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible about it, but you knew he could sense your curiosity, as the left corner of his mouth shot upwards.

“No, we broke up a while ago. How about you?”

“Well, I only got to know this guy I would meet here some days ago, but he kind of ‘broke up’ with me, moments before our first date”, you told him and rolled your eyes at the thought of it.

“Entirely his loss, then. And my luck”, he sneered and drank the rest of his drink in one sip. “Another round on lost love?”

You snorted while downing yours and replied: “Sure, why not?”

You kept on talking for what felt like minutes, about everything and anything that happened in the years you didn’t see each other, ordering one drink after another.   
Your topics went from school stories, over teachers up to your current lives and your tongue loosened more with each sip. At some point you even had the guts to tell him, that your current job was ‘nothing but a shitload of fucking desk work’, as you called it and he tried to make you feel better, by telling you he didn’t even have a job. You knew didn’t need one, but let him take part in your misery and enjoyed making fun of each other’s ‘pitiful’ lives.

It was past 4 a.m. when the waitress came over to tell you, they would close soon. You insisted to split the bill, but Draco waved you off and paid for each drink both of you have had.

When you stood up, you recognized how dazed you really were. It wasn’t that bad, but you were certainly too tipsy to disapparate home.   
Draco held the door for you to exit and followed you outside, where people were still straying around, looking for another pub to stumble into.

You turned to him, trying not to stagger and said: “I’m taking a taxi home. Thanks for the nice eve-”

“No!”, he interrupted you and bit his tongue the second after he did so. “I mean, you could come with me, if you want. Home.”   
He saw your flustered expression and went on: “Not like that. Just to talk some more. I feel like we still have a lot to catch up on.”

The noise that was intended to be a giggle, came out of you as a grunt and you asked: “Are you trying to seduce me, Malfoy?”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman here, but you’re not making this easy for me”, he chuckled.

“Fine, let’s go my gentleman”, you chimed and linked your arm with his, not only to emphasize your statement, but to keep more balanced as well and you weren’t sure if the tickling feeling in your stomach was the Gin, or tiny butterflies.

The two of you walked for about five minutes, you following his lead and kept on talking about Draco’s attempts to get into professional Quidditch, which have been unsuccessful yet. None of England’s pro teams contacted him, except for the Appleby Arrows, who offered him to practice as their reserve Seeker, which he declined. He seemed to be slightly embarrassed about it, so you didn’t ask any further, before he pointed to a tall building you approached and went to open the heavy gate of the ground floor.

You went in after him and took the elevator upstairs, to the top floor.   
‘Penthouse. How typical’, you thought and grinned, swearing yourself, you would never let him see your bad excuse for a flat.  
When you arrived on the highest storey, the lift opened and Draco walked towards the only door in the hallway to unlock it. His movements stretched the fabric of his jacket between his shoulder blades and showed off his muscular torso, making you want to touch him.

Your hand was faster than your thoughts and landed on his back softly, before you were able to comprehend what you just did. He turned his head your way, as he opened the door and sent you a questioning grin. “What are you doing?”, he asked in a chuckle.

“Sorry, I’m drunk”, you mumbled, but went a step closer, in contrast to your statement.

“You are”, he said and brought his hand up to your face, to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Draco took your hand, to lead you inside, but you leaned in to his touch and pressed your body to his, before he lowered his head a tiny bit and kissed you.

It started slow, when he pulled you in, your lips brushing over his softly, but turned deeper and more eager very quickly, as you felt your hunger for him emerging, more prominently each second.

The door shut behind you, he pulled his head back, his pale lips now tinted pink and breathed with a smile: “You’re drunk.” He said it like he meant it, yet his hand cupped your cheek and his lips touched yours again.

You nodded as your kiss continued, his tongue now stroking teasingly over your own. Your moves happened without prior discussion, you held on to his shoulders, jumped and Draco picked you up, your legs wrapped around his hips and he started walking, while you nestled your face to his neck, closed your eyes and giggled quietly to the soft vibrations his steps sent.

When he stopped, you lifted your head to see that he brought you to his bedroom. “You’re drunk”, you chuckled and kissed him once again.

He nodded this time, went towards his bed, where he let you down on. Your heads parted for a moment, his hooded eyes traced every inch of your face, mouth slightly agape, before your restless lips collided once more.

“We’re drunk”, you mumbled as you gasped for air, yet you pulled the collar of his shirt down, to get him even closer.

“We are”, he sighed as he let himself fall to his side and held your hand to prevent your from further yanking his clothes. “Should we stop?”

You watched his chest rising and lowering at a swift pace, rolled over to lie on your side as well, to face him and agreed: “We probably should.”

He ran his fingers through your hair, which sent a string of shivers down your body, and nodded endorsingly, before he kissed your forehead.

“Draco?”, you asked, snuggling into his chest.

“Yes?”

“I think I’m to dizzy to leave. I’ll disapparate home when I’m sober, okay?”

“Okay. Or, you know… You stay for a little longer.”

“Okay.”


End file.
